“Your packs are heavy?”
Another grunt made answer.
“We have much goods,” continued Raven. “But the time is short. Come and see.”
Raven led them out into the dark towards the pack horse, Little Thunder remaining by the fire. From the darkness Cameron could hear Raven's voice in low tones and the Indians' guttural replies mingled with unusual laughter.
When they returned the change in their appearance was plainly visible. Their eyes were gleaming with an unnatural excitement, their grave and dignified demeanour had given place to an eager, almost childish excitement. Cameron did not need the whiff that came to him from their breath to explain the cause of this sudden change. The signs were to him only too familiar.
“My brothers will need to hurry,” said Raven. “We move when the moon is high.”
“Good!” replied White Cloud. “Go, quick.” He waved his hand toward the dark. “Come.” He brought it back again. “Heap quick.” Without further word they vanished, silent as the shadows that swallowed them up.
“Now, then, Cameron, we have big business on foot. Up and give us a hand. Little Thunder, take the bunch down the trail a couple of miles and come back.”
Selecting one of the pack ponies, he tied it to a pine tree and the others he hurried off with Little Thunder down the trail.
“Going to do some trading, are you?” enquired Cameron.